Ghost Rights
by NobleMemoRuled
Summary: Kevin almost gets expelled from college. Outsider POV, season 9 spoilers.


_Hello once more. Again, not exactly sure about that disclaimer situation. Supernatural belongs to whoever it belongs to – the CW, probably, since it's the channel. Story is down below.  
_

Mr. Quinn was getting flustered. It was the first time he had to deal with such a problem. Even worse, possibly no one in history had to deal with a similar situation before. He rearranged the paperclips on his desk, moved the picture of his wife so that she'd beam toward the windows, then the potted plant, then his growing belly. He picked at the BIC pens, switched the caps and threw away the one that wrote best, since it was all chewed-up. Mr. Quinn suddenly realized he should maybe wait for the problematic freshman standing up, and so he rose; but then he thought maybe it would be too much, and waiting on his feet always made him pace around. He sat back down, cleared his throat, and placed his hands expectantly on the desk, with his chest puffed out. He quickly deflated as the door opened and a middle-aged woman walked in, a pale Asian kid in tow. He'd look innocent enough weren't he translucent.

"Ms. Tran," Quinn greeted, getting to his feet. He extended a hand toward her, which she shook, friendly enough but still fierce. "I'm Finn Quinn – well, you know why we're here today. Please sit – ah, er, you too, Kevin." He nodded to the boy and sat down himself. Mr. Quinn managed to keep a cool exterior, but inside, he raged at how ineffective he could be sometimes. Kevin obviously couldn't sit down, and his name was on the freakin' nameplate…!

"As you know, a few days ago, your son was suspended, for, well, erm…"

"Being dead, you mean," Linda Tran finished for him. Kevin shuddered at the mention of his state. Mr. Quinn noticed he still hung awkwardly beside the chair, and his heart felt for him, really – after all, he couldn't help being, um, a spirit. He'd probably been that awkward kid in high school, too. But Mr. Quinn was only doing his job.

"Yes, Ms. Tran, being dead. My role today is to determine whether or not your son should be allowed to remain at our institution. There is no regulation concerning… dead students attending classes –"

"Which means it is not forbidden," Ms. Tran interrupted.

"Please, let me finish – no, it is not on paper, but we still need to establish a precedent."

"Of course."

"There are many reasons why his attendance is contested – let alone the fact he is deceased. First, students might feel, er, _threatened_ by his presence – his kind _is_ often associated with bloody murders and general morbid atrocities…"

"My son has not murdered anyone, Mr. Quinn."

"Sir, I can't even kill a fly," Kevin said. "The other kids barely even notice me; I think at least five of them went through me today. They certainly don't feel threatened." Kevin was not particularly anxious of getting into the small, but well-rated, college. He was doing it for his mother, so that she could be proud of him before he disappeared.

"Huh," Mr. Quinn ejaculated as he jotted down gibberish on a notepad. "I see. Well, Kevin, you know the matter you'll have to do lab work and material stuff. Obviously, in your condition, it is going to be harder."

Kevin shrugged. "I've been a ghost for quite a while, now," he said. "I've acquired some mad skills, see?" He picked up the BIC pen from the trash and held it up between two fingers. There was the hint of a smile on his face, and Kevin held the pen until he wasn't dense enough anymore and it fell down. It broke Quinn's heart. A young man with such a brilliant track record, being so excited by his ability to pick up a pen.

"It's not much but it's a start," Kevin added, the smile fading out.

"I see," Quinn said.

"He's a hard-working young man," Linda Tran said. "He can work himself to death over a simple assignment. I don't know why you wouldn't want him. His condition isn't a reason for discrimination, you know. I guess being a ghost is a sort of disability, and even Helen Keller was able to attend college with the proper help."

"I'm hardly Helen Keller, Mom…"

"She has a point," Mr. Quinn conceded. "I guess I'll have to look deeper into it. Thank you for your time, Ms. Tran, Kevin." He rose with the mother, and they shook hands again. He hesitated slightly, figuring his next question might be too personal. "Now, if you don't mind me asking, Kevin, why aren't you moving on? Would _this_ be your unfinished business?"

"These guys I used to work for," began Kevin uncertainly, "they sort of got me killed – no hard feelings, though. Long story short, a friend of theirs closed Heaven. No one gets up there anymore."

"When did this happen?" Mr. Quinn's blood had gone cold.

"Hum – summer 2013? They're working on reopening it, though, the guys. They're not evil, not _completely_."

A few goodbyes later, Kevin and his mother were out of Mr. Quinn's office. The man staggered over to his nice desk chair and let himself fall down onto it. His gaze fell onto his wife's, in the nice golden frame, the last smile she ever gave a camera. Mr. Quinn shook as the sobs left his body. That Kevin kid, he could go to the college any time he wanted. Screw conventions, screw being dead, anyone who wanted to get educated (and who had the means) could attend this institution.

_Thank you for reading this story, I hope you like it. This is not what I have been working on for the past two months – it just popped up and had to be taken care of._

_(Behind the scenes stuff: I have never been expelled from any school, and so am not familiar with how it works. This is why Mr. Quinn doesn't have a specific title. I imagine that in particular cases, they _would_ meet the students. __The name Quinn is from a tombstone. I really couldn't think of a title.)_


End file.
